when i was young – younger than 10 – the doctor, during an examination in the big city, pulled my foreskin back over my penis head. it hurt like heck since the foreskin had to be stretched to make it. doc told me i had to wash under the foreskin every bath, or else head cheese would develope.
so i did. i washed it – a lot.
one night while reading and fondling my penis, i had my first climax. i had no idea whatsoever what had happened. all i knew was it was wrong to touch yourself, and that i had probably broken something essential. i wiped away the sticky clear goo, lay down in the dark, and waited to die.
next morning, still alive, i touched it some more. made it break again. kept on breaking it over and over. one day at my aunt norma’s (who played piano for lawrence welk), i put some milk on it so that the small kitty cat would lick it… i wanted to see what it’s rough tongue would feel like. aunt norma came home and caught me hastily pulling up my pants with the kitten’s head still inside. she never said a word. i burned red in shame.
few years later, same doctor mentioned that my left testicle had dropped considerably lower than my right… said that was usually caused by playing with myself too often. i burned red in shame.
shame and guilt were my middle name growing up.
but i kept on breaking my penis 2-3 times a day anyway. i must of had one of the most broke dicks in town back then.
comment from hi-ball poet-ick jack added by low-ball smith…
That one ball hangs low joke was around for a long time. And the other one that jerking off made hair grow on the palms of your hands (Quick, look around see who is checking his palms). You probably had the movie in your collection “Can I Do It Until I Need Glasses?” I never went blind either.
Peace and Blessings
Steve Smith wrote:
kathy said no males would comment cuz most males refuse to discuss masterbation cuz they’re too insecure.
poet-ick jack replied:
No, no, no I wasn’t talking about – THAT – I was talking about, um, you know, er, well, whatever. I always held thought that if God didn’t want us to do – THAT – he would have made our arms too short to reach our pricks whattayathink?
smith re-replied:
well maybe with me that was his/her intention cuz my dick’s too small for my fingers to find…. have some good masturbation metaphors in the beginning of a 1975 poem – the small deaths is a reference to the orgasm being a little death – heard that is some college english course.
Slave and Masturbation
An old plow hand, I play acoustic
Foreskin, hairy palms, white cane
Puberty, the fish and the fingers.
Old acids etch anew my brain.
The old wants? They still imply
Unoffered breasts, often rejected.
Original sin is condition given
So the knee bores say.
Yet dark ripples still unstill light.
Small deaths linger lightly on sheets
No longer washed nor nightly scented
With reason wrinkled or raw.